Pense A Moi
by CassielADarkmoon
Summary: A sixteen-year-old girl playing the role of Meg in a high school production The Phantom of the Opera struggles with Elizabeth, a snobby senior who craves attention. But lately strange events have been occuring at rehearsals. Is it the Ghost?
1. A diva and an angel

**(Readers: I've had a couple of fanfics on this account before, but they were deleted. I plan on keeping this one.**

**Note: Blah blah blah, I don't on POTO, but it is a true story! And sorry this chapter is so short!)**

_**In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came…**_

_**That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name…**_

_**And do I dream again? For now I find…**_

"Annabella?"

_**The Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind!**_

"Annabella!"

I looked up and saw the face belonging to the voice. Sighing, I paused my iPod, cutting off Michael Crawford mid-sentence.

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

"I need to run Angel of Music again," she said smugly. "Of course," I replied, pulling my headphones out of my ears and standing up. Elizabeth ran up next to the piano and cued the pianist with a very cheesy smile. He began to play.

It's not that I didn't mind running Phantom songs, in fact, I loved it. Phantom of the Opera had been my favorite musical since the age of five and, when I found out that the high school had enough funding to perform it, I immediately signed up to audition.

Of course, there was Elizabeth. She was a senior, always trying to be in the spotlight, not really caring for music, only for attention. Because of her age, I should have known that she would have been offered the part of Christine. I was merely a sophomore, and would have been lucky enough to have even made it in the show. I knew I was fortunate to get the role of Meg, but something inside me felt angry at Elizabeth…perhaps because she lacked the passion for the role, merely singing the notes emotionless. Regardless, she thought she was a prodigy, finding any excuse to run through a song that had a Christine solo in it.

"Don't be frightened…" I finished my solo, feeling a bit hypocritical. My voice was dull, emotionless, exactly what I had silently criticized Elizabeth. But rehearsal was over, and I was feeling overwhelmingly fatigued.

I headed to the dressing room to pick up my bag. Putting all of my rehearsal necessities in it, I noticed something poking out of my drawer. I pulled it out. It was a note…

"_Do not worry, Elizabeth's stage time is nearly over. Your time will come soon."_


	2. The mirror

I gasped at the writing. It was in a careless, childish hand, and the ink was blood red. Could it have been the Ghost?

…No, that was impossible. The legend of the Opera Ghost and Christine Daaé had occurred almost 150 years ago, not to mention in the world renowned Paris Opera House. It was the twenty first century now, and the Opera Ghost, if he had indeed become a "ghost", would have had no reason to waste his time at a public high school.

_Relax, _I thought quietly to myself. _It's_ _probably just a techie just playing a joke on you. _I promptly slung my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed my car keys, and walked out the dressing room door.

I was the last one to leave the theatre, but that wasn't a rare occurrence. Because theatre was such a passion of mine, I spent every moment I could on or near the stage. I was never afraid to be in the theatre alone.

_Did I just hear something?_

I looked up instinctively. No one there…

_It's just those long rehearsal hours getting to me,_ I thought to myself, sitting down in one of the house chairs in the front row. I looked straight ahead. The set wasn't half bad— it wasn't quite finished, but was certainly very good for a high school producing Phantom on a limited budget. My gaze rested on one particular item— a vintage dressing mirror. It was cheap, I'd heard, but it was exquisitely beautiful; no doubt it was at least seventy years old. The gold frame with its intricate detailing was a bit tarnished, but the mirror itself shone as brightly as it must have when it was first made. Truly, a mirror among mirrors.

"_Bravi, bravi, bravissimmi…"_

There it was again! Nervously, I brushed a lock of my vibrant red hair out of my face. I couldn't pinpoint the location of the sound, but I was drawn to the mirror still. I slowly climbed onstage and stood in front of the mirror.

I couldn't help seeing my reflection. I looked as I normally did, plus post-rehearsal syndrome. My hair was in a loose ponytail, and my hazel eyes were outlined by black eyeliner. I wore my street clothes— a fitted vintage t-shirt, a pair of boot cut jeans, and a pair of low-top pink Converse. When I grew tired of surveying my appearance (and felt vain for doing so), I went around to the back of the mirror.

The back of the mirror itself was rather ordinary. It hadn't been cut out for the big "Angel of Music" scene, a job that needed to be done soon. Absentmindedly, I began to sing the words.

"_**Angel, I hear you, speak, I listen.**_

_**Stay by my side, guide me!**_

_**Angel, my soul was weak, forgive me…**_

_**Enter at last, Master!"**_

Suddenly, I felt a hand grasp my shoulder.


	3. Everything and Nothing

**Author's Note: **Ahh, I'm so sorry I didn't put one earlier! I was at camp for the last 2 weeks. The chapter before this is brandbrandnew.

CelestialGlowEquivalence: Thank you! I appreciate the reviews. Sorry I couldn't get this chapter up earlier!

Audra-the-Strange: haha, yes, well there is a new chapter for your enjoyment!

Anime-queen46: Sorry I couldn't update earlier!

Silent-eyes-of-the-Night: Oh Koala. Stay hyper. It keeps things interesting.

A note on this chapter: It's not very Phantom related. It's mostly just Annabella and her personal life…

And now, without further ado, the next chapter!

I turned around, startled. Only, the face that belonged to the hand didn't quite fit the storyline I had been hoping for— namely, my living out the musical. It was the face of a young man, with wavy dark hair and clear blue eyes. He was grinning.

"Andrew!" I shouted, filling the theatre with noise.

"I'm sorry! I just couldn't help myself," he explained, trying not to laugh.

I smiled. The guy was no Phantom of tricks, but he did get me that time. "Well, next time, don't take advantage of me in a dark theatre when I'm in a Phantom trance!"

"Sorry," he repeated, still smiling, but the apology was genuine.

I changed the subject. "What are you doing here, anyway?" I asked, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

"I thought I might pay you a visit. Is that so wrong?" He returned the squeeze. I laughed. "After rehearsal on a random weekday? When did you get here, anyway?"

"I watched some of the rehearsal, but you didn't seem to notice me. You must have been quite caught up in something."

I shrugged my shoulders. He knew me well. "So the note was from you, then?"

He laughed. "You caught me."

_I love it when he laughs._

Still holding his hand, I used my free hand to turn his face towards me, and I kissed him. When our lips parted, I whispered something in his ear.

"Do you have a ride?"

"No, I took a bus here." He was blushing. He always did after I kissed him. It gave me more reason to do so.

"Wanna get something to eat really quick, then?" I picked up my bag and slipped my arm in its handle.

"Definitely."  
I smiled and, still holding his hand, led him to the door. As we left the building, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been watched the whole time, and not just by Andrew…

Was my obsession getting to me? Or had I really been watched?


	4. Disappearing Act

**A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I love hearing that people like the story. **

**CelestialGlowEquivalence: Don't worry, the Phantom will find his way in the story. Like I said, the previous chapter was just Annabella's personal life, and her relationship with her boyfriend. **

**Norma Jean the Dancing Machine: Haha, thank you! More on the way!**

**Phantomfan1911: Thank you, I will!**

**Chapter Four**

I woke up the next morning excited. It was the first full run-through, and no Elizabeth was going to mess up my enthusiasm. For once, I was happy to just be in the production— even if it meant this mandatory Saturday morning rehearsal, not to mention putting up with the diva. I had plenty of time before I had to leave, about an hour, but I decided to get ready right away. I pulled a pair of cutoff black jazz pants from my bottom drawer, then the school's drama club t-shirt from next drawer. I glanced out the window. No snow, but it looked cold, as it was a February morning. I grabbed my dark blue hoodie, which was lying a few feet away from me on the floor. I got dressed quickly and pulled my red hair back in a high ponytail. Then I grabbed my ballet slippers. I looked over at the clock.

There was still plenty of time to kill.

Not wanting to wake up my parents, or my sister, or any of my brothers, I tiptoed into the kitchen, grabbing a pouch of Pop Tarts. Then I ran back to the room.

_Where is all this energy coming from?_

In the seclusion of my room, no one could hear me, so it was safe for me to practice some Meg solos and ballerina choreography. I stuck Disc One of the Original Broadway Cast recording into my CD player and decided to play the CD starting with the overture, so I could finish my Pop Tart.

The CD continued to play. When the music reached my first solo, I sang it, but then had the urge to sing _more_. So, forgetting my "practice" time, I began to sing for the role of Christine.

I knew every line of the musical, word for word. I sang each line passionately, in character. I imagined myself in the setting. I could see the hustle and bustle of the rehearsals, the quiet calm that was Christine's dressing room, the extravagant costumes. Method acting had always been a strength of mine.

The CD player reached track 6, the theme. I sang through it, as I normally would every time I heard the song. But something was different this time.My voice had no trouble reaching the notes as it normally would have, instead, it grew more extravagant.

I was beginning to scare myself.

I hit the final note. It wasn't a pathetic squeak, as it normally was coming from my mouth, but the note was crystal clear, almost angelic.

_No way. This is just too freaky._

In my vision, the Phantom was smiling. I was far too frightened to stay in this state, so I broke out of it. I checked the clock once again, and realized that I'd accomplished exactly what I tried so hard to avoid…

"Oh shit! I'm late!"

I grabbed everything I needed for rehearsal and turned off my CD player. I took one final check in the mirror…

_Am I still imagining things?_

I saw a face in the mirror behind me for a thousandth of a second. But then I turned around, and my Phantom was gone.


	5. Don Juan Triumphant!

**A/N: Thanks so much for supporting me, readers! I've been a little busy within the last week, because I had a bit of a family emergency. But here's the next chapter up for your enjoyment, after these little shout outs:**

**CelestialGlowEquivalence: See, I told you the Phantom would show up! It was a bit brief, I know, but you'll see a lot more of him in time.**

**Sarah/Phantomfan1911: I'm glad you enjoy the story! Please keep reading.**

**Norma Jean the Dancing Machine: Yeah, Poptarts do that, don't they? Haha. **

**KitsuneRW: I'm glad you like it!**

**Silent-Eyes-of-the-Night: Oh dear! I hope you get your internet back soon.**

**And now…the next chapter. **

I arrived, as I'd feared, several minutes late. I didn't even bother trying to sneak in, because this rehearsal was crucial, and the normally laid-back schedule had been tightened.

I burst in the door. The cast, sitting with their backs facing me, turned around immediately.

"Miss Way, you're late." Our director, Ms. Jones, a short young woman, greeted me with impatience.

"I know. I'm really sorry, I lost track of time…" Words fumbled awkwardly out of my mouth. She held up a hand. "Just sit, please."

I did so, finding a place next to another member of the _corps de ballet_, a blonde freshman named Sophia. "What's up?" I asked her, as the director went to meet with the crewmembers. She nodded towards our Phantom and Raoul. "Elizabeth came down with some really weird form of laryngitis. She won't be able to sing for at least a week— at least that's what her mom told us. Jones is freaking because we don't have an understudy, and you know that the show opens in two weeks."

I nodded gravely.

"Aren't you a Phantom fan?" she asked me, hope suddenly filling her eyes. I nodded again. "Maybe you could fill in for Elizabeth," she suggested.

My eyes widened. Would I be allowed?

_I've got to at least try…_

I approached a shaking Ms. Jones. "Um…Ms. Jones?

She turned around. "What is it, Annabella?" she said, irritation lingering in her voice.

"…I could sing the role of Christine for today."

"Oh, Annabella…" she trailed off. Then she shook her head, as if dismissing any negative thoughts about the idea. "Very well. We'll start with Don Juan." She looked around the theatre, then called out, "Two minutes till the top of Don Juan!"

"Thank you, two," everyone called back.

She forced a smile at me. "Sophia knows Meg's lines, so she'll fill in for you when we start the run through today."

I nodded once again, then smiled in Sophia's direction. She smiled back and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Top of Don Juan!" our stage manager Chloe yelled. I ran off stage left. Our Piangi, a chubby junior named Michael, made his way on the stage with Sophia. I watched her pirouette gracefully and catch the money bag that Michael threw to her.

_She's so perfect for this role._

I glanced up at the fly rail. The crew, other than Chloe, was on a break. So why did I see something up there?

"…**_if I do not forget myself, and laugh…" _**Michael gave me my cue line. I had to go on and prove that I was capable of the role.

I walked on stage slowly and began to sing.

"_**No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy!**_

_**No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!"**_

I hit the notes perfectly. I looked over at Ms. Jones, who had just seated herself next to Chloe. She looked surprised. Satisfied, I continued the scene with confidence.

The whole cast seemed to be astonished with my sudden improvement. While my voice had always been good, no one had ever heard me sing like this before, not even myself. As the song continued, my voice grew stronger and more elegant.

"_**We've passed the point of no return…"**_


End file.
